I'm going to talk about health and food here. I am not a medical professional, nor do I play one on this blog. Please consult a medical professional before diagnosing or treating any conditions you may have.



It started, or so I thought, with persistent ingrown hairs. They were red bumps in my bikini line that often grew swollen and painful, but every search result told me to be more careful about shaving and to try warm compresses. No matter that I barely ever shaved the area, I took it as fact that these were just a nuisance, even as they grew larger and numerous.

Then I had an open wound on my stomach. It was during hot weather, so I wrote it off as some sort of reaction to the heat and sweat. I felt embarrassed, really, that apparently my stomach folds weren't letting in adequate ventilation, and pledged to keep the area drier.

Then I got a small open sore in one armpit. That sent me Googling. I didn't have a knee-jerk reason for wounds in my armpit, even tiny ones like this.

It was that small sore that connected all the disparate symptoms. I didn't have ingrown hairs and severe heat rash and mystery sores. I had an autoinflammatory skin condition known as hidradenitis suppurativa, which I will abbreviate as HS for ease of reading. (You're welcome.)

HS was initially considered to be an inflammation of the sweat glands that caused leaking wounds (hence the mouthful of a name, if you want to consider the root etymology of hidra/sweat + aden/gland + itis/inflammation + suppurativa/weeping). It's now more accurately considered to be obstruction of the hair follicles, but tomato-scientific-jargon-tomahto. Whatever the internal workings, externally HS presents as painful swollen cysts that ultimately break to the surface and expel pus and blood, recurrent open wounds, and resulting scar tissue. To avoid traumatizing you further, I won't post any photos, but feel free to do an image search if you haven't eaten recently.

My 12-month-old son recovering from a surgery we almost didn't have because we couldn't afford it.

I try not to be too political on this blog. You probably don't believe me given some of my recent posts, but it's true. If you're politicked out and want to skip this one, feel free. I just want to give some public insight into how maternal and child healthcare work — or don't — on a high deductible plan with an HSA, and since that's been my lived experience, I feel an obligation to share.

There are many Republican plans floating around right now suggesting a replacement to the Affordable Care Act (aka Obamacare), which currently covers 20 million people in the United States. Several replacement ideas, including the latest GOP plan, have touted health savings accounts as the best option for those who need private insurance. I'm here to tell you how that works out in practice, and how it might nearly have cost me my fertility and my life and how it could have prevented my baby from having a needed operation.

Scenario 1: The five-month miscarriage

When my husband, Sam, and I were first trying to conceive, we got pregnant right away, but not all was rosy. I started spotting at 6 weeks and then full-on bleeding with cramps at 10 weeks: a miscarriage. I put off going to my gynecologist, whom I hadn't seen in a long time due to budget constraints. I figured what needed to come out had come out and that there was nothing more to be done. I had a hankering to keep this baby's "birth" natural in any case, but this was aided by the fact that if I went in to a gynecologist, it wouldn't be covered as a preventive visit. It would be an urgent-care visit, which meant I'd be on the hook for the full amount, including any tests and procedures. I'd had problems with this before, even when going in for preventive visits, which were supposed to be covered with just a copay. The doctor, without asking me, would tack on some extra lab work, and the next thing I knew, I'd be getting a lab bill I hadn't budgeted for.

So I stayed home, and I kept bleeding. And bleeding. And bleeding. For five months, I continued charting my temperatures to see when I'd ovulate, and I'd note which days I had spotting. It was nearly all the days in that five-month span, interspersed with what seemed like menstrual periods as well. I fretted. I searched message boards. Surely this was not normal? I called the midwives I'd been hoping to see for my pregnancy. They told me to call my gynecologist. I called Planned Parenthood, hoping for a cheaper option. They told me to call my gynecologist. I finally did, and my gynecologist's office scheduled me for three weeks out. I called back to see if they could see me sooner, and they scheduled an urgent-care visit for that week, but I was so wracked with anxiety about going to an appointment I couldn't afford that I ended up being too late for it, and it was canceled on me. Not too long after, I woke up tortured by the most painful cramps I'd ever experienced. I cried and labored in the shower, took some ibuprofen, then fell back asleep. When I woke up, a chestnut-size piece of tissue lay in my underpants. After passing that tissue, the bleeding stopped from that day forward.

When I was pregnant, each time there were nights when I'd wake up in the middle of the night with a charley horse in my calf, leaving me gasping in pain and shock and unsure what to do to fix the problem. By my third pregnancy, I knew just what would solve it, and I want to share that with you in three simple steps that are really just one step broken out into three parts. Because I love to complicate things.

In my first and second pregnancies, I researched why pregnant people get leg cramps and what I could do to prevent and remedy them. I tried stretching. I tried more activity. I tried less. I tried warm baths. I tried magnesium supplements. I tried massage. Nothing seemed to affect whether I got the cramps, how often they came along, or how severe they were. If I couldn't get the cramp to go away quickly, my calf would be sore for days after a cramping episode.

But now I know what to do!

Ready?

FLEX YOUR FEET.

Bam. That's all. But let's break it down, shall we?

I've been thinking about this for a while and have come to the inescapable conclusion that there is no such thing as exercise. The very concept is a modern invention, born of people gradually and very recently, anthropologically speaking, becoming richer and more stable and therefore more sedentary for most of their waking moments.

As humans, as living creatures, we've always moved our bodies, but not until relatively recently have we moved them in prescribed repetitive motions for a short period of time per day and decreed that as "healthy."

Imagine our ancient ancestress, hanging out with her tribemates. She covers miles a day searching out roots, then bending to pull them. She walks slowly, not setting any landspeed records here, because she's got the pace of kids and older folks to match and, anyhow, where's the hurry? She carries the food she gathers as well as her nursing toddler, and when they settle in to camp for the night, she walks to a nearby stream to carry back heavy water skins. She squats and then stands throughout the day: to gather, to rest, while preparing food, while braiding a daughter's hair, while peeing. All day long, she's working her muscles but doesn't call it weight training. She's working her heart and lungs but doesn't call it cardio.

Raise your hand if you're sure you ate enough veggies today. How many hands are up?

That few, huh?

I love emphasizing whole, natural foods in my diet — but as a busy homeschooling, work-at-home mama of three, I'm lucky if I've remembered to shower this week, let alone had the wherewithal to ensure I've eaten all the fiber I need each day.

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Welcome to the July 2015 Carnival of Natural Parenting: Summer Fun

This post was written for inclusion in the monthly Carnival of Natural Parenting hosted by Hobo Mama and Code Name: Mama. This month our participants have talked about how to get out and enjoy the warmer season as a family.

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Several years ago, I wrote an advice post asking how in the world to get a kid to want to walk. That child was my oldest, Mikko, and … he still hates to walk. Note: I do not mean “walk long distances” or “walk fast” — I mean, move his tush at all. So, apparently, it was just who he is!¹

But, three years ago, when I was figuring out how to change from someone who hates running and is terrible at it to someone who could maybe, very slowly, run a 5K race (not well! obviously! but finish it!), Mikko was intrigued by my efforts and expressed his own interest in competing in a race.

Technically, kids can enter a lot of races, and there were plenty running (full out) alongside their parents in the 5K I eventually conquered (at a snail’s pace, but I kept moving the whole time!). However, I knew Mikko wouldn’t do well for a whole 5K (about 2.2 miles), even walking. So I kept looking and found the Seattle Children's Kids Marathon, and it was perfect for us.

This is one in a series of guest posts by other bloggers. Read to the end for a longer biographical note on today's guest blogger, Jessica from This is Worthwhile. She builds a strong case for the age-old but currently neglected practice of allowing mothers an established period of rest and recuperation after giving birth.

I first published this guest post in 2009, and Jessica was gracious enough to allow me to hog it again since I love it so much. I hope the idea of lying-in can reach even more parents, because I found it essential to healing after my births.

A typical lunch in our house in the first few days.

Guest post by Jessica from This is Worthwhile

In September of 2006 I was minding my own business checking out at Whole Foods. I looked up and saw Mothering Magazine. At the time I had two best friends 1200 miles away both expecting babies in 2007, so I grabbed two copies and went home, never having heard of the magazine before, and not even a whisper of my own pregnancy in my ears for months to come.

I started flipping through the pages and was overwhelmed by the sense of community I found there. Up until that moment, my idea of pregnancy, birth, and child-rearing was a foggy ideal based on my mother's methods (no spanking, lots of nursing, lots of educating yourself), not so unlike what I found in those pages. But what really struck me was an article about lying-in, a concept that really struck a chord with my cultural anthropological background and with my feminist beliefs, written by Katherine Gyles, called "At Rest in the Arms of the Mother."

What Is Lying-In?

Lying-in is loosely defined as a period of rest postpartum by the mother and babe anywhere between 1 week and 3 weeks and even more if feasible by the family. The mother is to be waited on and to remain on her back as much as possible to accomplish a number of physical and emotional goals. Physically, it allows her organs to reposition themselves and generally affords her more rest. Emotionally, it allows her to focus all her attention on the new infant at her breast, to bond, and to set the tone for the rest of the family to follow suit.

It is also called confinement or doing the month.

It is a time of quiet, reflection, and calibration. There is to be no fussing by the new mother over dishes, chores, or bills. She is to rest. Period.

Why Rest and Lying Down Is Critical

The uterus needs to shrink back to regular size and get back in position, there is lots of bleeding (I bled for 6 weeks), the perineum will need extra special attention as it recovers from the brutal stretching and pressure it endured (and any possible tearing), and women's legs and feet may become swollen in the couple of days after birth. Being off your feet will release any pressure felt in your bottom, give your guts time to reposition, and allow blood to flow freely. These physical changes are critical to our health and shouldn't be brushed aside for daily chores or lunches with well-wishers.

Welcome to the February 2015 Carnival of Natural Parenting: Do It Yourself

This post was written for inclusion in the monthly Carnival of Natural Parenting hosted by Hobo Mama and Code Name: Mama. This month our participants are teaching us how to make something useful or try something new.

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After you've given birth vaginally, things can be rather … tender … down there. Possibilities include swelling, tears, stitches, hemorrhoids, and other fun things. What I wanted most after my births was (a) not to look and (b) to make the area feel better.

Enter frozen postpartum pads!

Also known adorably as padsicles and peri-pops (because they soothe your sore perineum), they're easy to make and can be prepared ahead of time by you or by a birth attendant if you've put it off till the last minute. They take just a few ingredients and whatever pads you can source.

I'll also give you a few other ideas for natural pain relief at the end.

Supplies:

• Witch hazel (preferably alcohol-free)
• Aloe vera gel
• Lavender essential oil (optional)
• Small bottle or bowl for mixing
• Pads

The cat wants to know how it's done.

I've written before about the new healthcare changes in the United States and how they affect pregnant women. One exciting change is the ability of any woman with a current health insurance plan to obtain a free breast pump, with the cost covered by the insurance company. Here's my experience with that.

I live in Washington state and have insurance through LifeWise, bought on the healthcare exchange since I'm self-employed. If you're employed with health benefits or covered under a family member's employer-sponsored plan, you're likely already on one of the newer plans. If you're freelance, you probably know whether you're uninsured or on an older, grandfathered plan (which are not required to meet all the new benefits, including this one), or whether you've purchased one of the new subsidized (depending on income) healthcare plans through the government marketplace for your state. Among the new rules of healthcare reform are a requirement that new plans cover maternity and newborn care (no pre-existing condition exclusions) and that they cover lactation consultation and either the purchase of a retail breast pump or the rental of a hospital-grade breast pump. (If you have Medicaid or WIC or a state-sponsored low-income insurance plan, the Affordable Care Act might not apply to you, but you can still get a breast pump through WIC or possibly your state's Medicaid program.)

Here are a couple quotes from an online pamphlet from the government summarizing the benefits of healthcare reform for breastfeeding parents:

Health insurance plans must provide breastfeeding support, counseling, and equipment for the duration of breastfeeding. These services may be provided before and after you have your baby.

…

Your health insurance plan must cover the cost of a breast pump – and may offer to cover either a rental or a new one for you to keep.

Your plan may provide guidance on whether the covered pump is manual or electric, how long the coverage of a rented pump lasts, and when they’ll provide the pump (before or after you have the baby).

[Healthcare.gov: "Breastfeeding benefits"]

Have you heard of the oil cleansing method, where you wash your face with … yup … oil? If you have acne or oily skin, you've probably shied away, assuming that adding oil wouldn't help at best and, at worst, would make you erupt into Mount Pimple.

But I have persistent adult acne, and I've been using oil cleansing for my face successfully for the past two years at least. It's a great way to get a deep clean that's safe, gentle, and natural, and it won't irritate or inflame your sensitive skin into breaking out.

There are simply some guidelines for choosing the right kinds of oils and procedures that will help your acne-prone skin without hurting it.

How does oil cleansing work?

It seems counterintuitive — put oil on my skin to get the oil out? But that's exactly right! As you cleanse, the fresh oil enters your pores and mixes with and dissolves the oil that's already there. Then, when you rinse, nearly all the oil — the stuff you put in, and the stuff that was there to begin with (along with any dirt, leftover cosmetics, or other yuckies) — easily washes away. It leaves you with skin that retains its natural moisture but not any excess gunk.

On a hike — a very slow, short hike.

I'm 31 weeks pregnant, and I am tired. I'm sore in various mentionable and unmentionable places, I've all but abandoned bending over to reach anything that's fallen (whatever it is will keep until someone else can), I shuffle and lurch and waddle instead of walk, and I can't get comfortable in any position. If I sit, the baby seems to have no place to go. If I stand, my left leg falls asleep. If I walk, my hips ache within minutes, and my pelvis starts to burn. If I lie down, my joints protest and various muscles cramp up on me spasmodically throughout the night.

I'd like to just … not do much. Just sort of wait and gestate.

But I still feel all this pressure to keep going. Because that's what we do, right? The modern woman? Or, probably, any woman? There's already the myth of the woman working in the fields, squatting to deliver, then tying the newborn on her back as she resumes her harvest. As long as the baby's inside instead of out, we're supposed to keep moving, keep working, keep taking care of things, keep exercising, and above all, stop being such a wuss.

Awhile back, I wrote a post bemoaning our limited choices for U.S. health insurance maternity coverage as a self-employed family.

Let the politicos argue about Obamacare — I'm just happy to report that Health Care Reform has solved those problems!

Back in 2010, here were our choices:

1. Upgrade our health insurance before conception to a plan that includes maternity coverage, which ended up being one of the two most expensive plans offered by our insurer.
2. Pay out of pocket for all our prenatal, birth, and postpartum expenses.

I thought this was all horrifically sexist for so few insurance plans to cover maternity — sure, not all of us get pregnant and have babies, but all of us have been babies. It wasn't just penalizing women of childbearing age — it was penalizing the most vulnerable members of our society, the soon-to-be and recently born. I'm so glad someone told the insurance companies they needed to stop being weasels.

With Alrik's pregnancy, we ended up going with upgrading just my insurance to the most expensive plan — so expensive, in fact, that I ended up paying more per month to insure just myself with maternity coverage than we paid to insure the other three family members (once Alrik was born) combined on a non-maternity plan.

Have you seen these Weight Watchers commercials?

Pint-size cuties wax rhapsodic about their exuberant and fanciful dreams:

"When I grow up, I'm going to go to the moon … and then we can float to school."


"When I grow up, I want to float around in my big pink bubble … or use my magic wand to make rainbows fall from the sky."


Other kids profess their joyous plans to be a dolphin tamer, swim with mermaids, and live in a bouncy castle.

As the ad continues: "Remember when you thought anything was possible? It still is."

Yes, as the smiling grown-up ladies swinging on rope swings, tootling on basketed bikes, and bouncing on trampolines assure us … anything is possible to us now as adults.

Assuming that the only thing we want now is to lose weight.

Since Mikko was a baby, we've been dealing with drama surrounding elimination. When he was a toddler, this morphed into an unwillingness to defecate.

This is a post I've been debating whether or not to publish, and one I might take down at some point as Mikko gets older and needs more privacy. For now, I've decided to post it, because: (a) You're not alone if you're dealing with this same issue, and (b) there's nothing shameful about toileting issues, no matter what age. It can be really worth it to talk openly about struggles with going.

There are many reasons a child might have resistance to eliminating — some physical and some psychological. It's appropriate to rule out physical reasons first, and I am not a doctor, so check with your own medical providers for advice on any physical obstacles. We ruled out any sort of issues with physical structure or internal disorders with Mikko, so we were cleared to proceed with examining other causes.

The most common cause suggested for trouble pooping was not what Mikko's problem was. To whit, he does not suffer from constipation. Any time we brought up his hesitance to poop, we got advice on constipation — whether it was with his pediatrician or other well-meaning parents. But Mikko's stools are soft and well-formed and come along with regularity. Constipation was not his problem.¹ So what was?

My two extremes, from the same genetic stock

I somehow got blessed with two kids on opposite ends of the growth spectrum: Mikko through toddlerhood was a happy 150th percentile kind of guy, and I just let him keep on growing. He was barely eating any solid food before he was two, so I knew it would all even out, and it did. He'll always be a tall and hefty kid (around the 80th percentile now for both height and weight), but that's his body type.

See how sickly he is? Sad.

Then Alrik came along, and he's wee. His height is puzzling though not particularly worrisome: 33rd percentile. His dad and I are tall, so it's strange to have a shrimp. But his weight is off the charts, the other way. At 2 years and 4 months, his 23 pounds doesn't even register.

This is not only weird — it is a trifle concerning. He comes from a family of generally larger-than-average people with a few skinny minnies. So he could just be one of those recessives, right? But his naturopathic pediatrician is cautiously concerned, because here's how nutritional deficiencies can manifest:

First goes the weight, then the height, then the development.

In other words, the weight's already gone. He's already demonstrating that he's atypically short (genetically speaking). So is his developmental progress next?

Welcome to the Sunday Surf, a tour of the best blogposts I've read throughout the week.

Since Sam and I trade off taking the boys and working, the parent-on-duty usually tries to find some fun event or locale for one part of the day. This day I was excited to see that police horses would be at a nearby shopping center. Only … Alrik fell asleep on the way there and would not awaken. Mikko, meanwhile, would only look at the horses from the car. So I took a picture with my phone. Hey, I tried.

More successful this week was our Family Day (the day we all do something together), when we headed to the craft store to see if we could find a science or art project we could all work on. We stopped by the toy store to look for a CSI kit (Mikko loves playing detective), and Alrik zoned with the trains. I know it's blurry, but can you tell his lips are making a choo-choo sound?

Links!

5 hours ago

#gentle discipline
#respectful parenting
#bodily integrity
Let Her Say No. - Binkies and Briefcases →
Ah, this one’s killing me, because the circumstances are entirely similar to an outing our family had recently: a ferris wheel with Mikko reluctant about the height, wasting a ticket, tantrum response from me, and cajoling/shaming him to go after all. And even though he ended up having a good time,  I still regret not standing by his decision to say No.
11 hours ago (3 notes)

#gentle discipline
#discipline
#positive discipline
View high resolution 
The Day I Realized I Was Bullying My Kids » Creative with Kids
1 day ago

#gentle discipline
#discipline
#positive discipline
Parents' Yelling Is as Harmful as Hitting, Study Finds - WSJ.com →
3 days ago

#suicide

September 8-14 is National Suicide Prevention Week. If someone is discussing thoughts of suicide and self-harm online, reach out for help. You can anonymously report people on Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, Tumblr, and YouTube, and the services will send the user a link to the Lifeline number. And if you need help, call one of the counselors. You’re worth it!
1-800-273-TALK(8255) SuicidePreventionLifeline.org

Twitter party on bullying:

Join us TOMORROW, Monday, September 16, for our monthly Twitter chat — this month's topic is Bullying, perfect for back to school but also for any parent worried about aggression in children, the effects of punishment, cyber threats, how we can help kids stand up for themselves, and how we can promote peace in schools but also in our own homes.

See more information at the Twitter party page, and we'll catch you in the #NatParNet chat room at 7 p.m. Pacific / 10 p.m. Eastern.

I'm happy to have a guest post today at ourfeministplayschool about my longing for a red tent. It's part of her series on {menstruation. Period} that looks at menstruation from a variety of perspectives.

I think it was when I read The Red Tent several years ago that it first occurred to me that being confined to home or a certain location (aka a Red Tent) during one's period might be not a punishment but a release. Ever since getting my first period at age 12, I have sought to dissemble, to conceal, to pretend nothing was happening once a month that was out of the ordinary. Even when cramps were threatening to bend me double and I felt my intestines roiling with a sure certainty that they would be pushing something out soon, I tried to sit primly in social studies class, not letting on that anything was amiss — especially not to the boys.

Because women were supposed to be strong. Because one of the reasons given throughout the ages for why women couldn't be in leadership was that their "special time of the month" might at best alter their concentration and judgment, and at worst incapacitate them. I had to be a model of strong feminist womanhood and show I was not affected by the stickiness between my thighs, by the pitchfork tossing my innards, by the chemicals coursing through my bloodstream.

In The Red Tent, the women have cycles that swell in time with each other, as is often the case when feminine hormones adjust to each other in close quarters. And once each moon is a time to withdraw, to relax — for there to be no obligation, no guilt or pressure, no need to please the men or to work for a living. It is a time of renewal and release, of the young learning from the old, and the beauty of the cycles bringing the women close to each other.

I began to be quite envious I had no red tent of my own.

Continue reading at ourfeministplayschool ››

A long time ago, I wrote a quite depressing post on how postpartum sex after Mikko's birth kinda sucked, for a long time. I used words like "chafing" and "neutral" and "no physical sensations of pleasure." It was about nine months after Mikko's birth before I started enjoying myself again.

I thought I really should do a baby #2 update for you, since things were completely, entirely different this time around. Go figure, right?

Warnings once more: TMI up the wazoo & likely NSFW. Let's be blunt, shall we?

I'll go through the topics I covered last time to contrast and compare.

Physical recovery

Once again, I had a vaginal birth without medications or interventions. Well, definitely this time, since Sam and I were the only ones there! I probably pushed too fast in my excitement and surprise that a baby's head was coming out of me before the midwife had arrived, so I did have a little tearing that needed stitches. However, not many, and the pain down there was just sort of twingey. My bidet (!!!) helped a lot with those early days of soothing, and I had postpartum compresses pre-frozen for myself that I lurved. (I should really post my recipes for those sometime!) However, I was quite lochia-y and otherwise feeling worn out from the birth for a couple weeks. My uterus was very stretched out, making it a bit hard to breathe from the pressure on my diaphragm. (I had to lift it up and push it in when I walked for the first week or so.)

Anyhoo, I was much more hesitant this second time around to even attempt anything in the pantsal region (that's a term; look it up) until at least the prescribed six-week waiting period was up. I'm not even sure when exactly we did first re-attempt the horizontal mambo.

I do, however, remember tensing up, bracing myself, waiting, waiting … and … it felt GOOD!

Were these coconut-heavy cupcakes the cause of my most recent outbreaks … or not?

For those of you avidly following the saga of my face, here's a brief update.

Quick recap so far: I have persistent adult acne, for which I've tried pretty much every treatment a dermatologist can offer. At this point, I keep it relatively under control at home with over-the-counter medication.

However: When Sam and I gave up (most) grains and sugars in October, my skin got worse. Since it couldn't be lack of grains that made it flare up, I determined it must be an excess of something else I'd added to my diet.

Suspect #1: Dairy

My first experimental removal was dairy, since cheese had become my new go-to snack. Removing it had — wait for it — zero effect on my acne.

What it did have was a high effect on my frustration level with elimination diets!

Whereas before giving up dairy, I adjusted surprisingly easily to not eating grains, once dairy went, too, all I could think about was cheating — on both counts.

After five weeks of No! Cheese! I saw no benefits to my skin and happily gave up.

On to suspect #2

I decided to move down the list of likely acnegenic suspects, based on reading through online forums, books on primal eating, and scholarly articles on acne and diet:

1. Dairy
2. Nuts
3. Coconuts
4. Nightshades

So now — it was on to nuts.